


Bending Light

by onstraysod



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 11:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12704028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onstraysod/pseuds/onstraysod
Summary: Hera Syndulla is taken captive by Grand Admiral Thrawn, who makes an unexpected proposition.





	Bending Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [politicalmamaduck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/gifts).



> A short work requested by politicalmamaduck, with whom I share a certain beloved blue husband. ;)

He moved like a predator, the same sinewy danger in the silence of his steps as she’d witnessed once in a feline creature that lived on a forested Mid-Rim moon. She’d forgotten the name of that creature, but she knew his: knew it too well. Merely thinking it sent a shiver to the tips of her lekku.

_Thrawn_.

He came out of the shadows that clustered thick around the periphery of the room, his gleaming red eyes the first hint of his presence. Instinctively Hera fought against the binders around her wrists, but it was futile: her hands were held fast and, even had they not been, Thrawn’s personal assassin Rukh lurked somewhere near, ready to subdue her - or worse. There was no escape. She would have to bide her time and hope her crew would guess where she was -- and who had taken her.

“Captain Syndulla. Welcome.” His voice was as smooth as his movements, resonant but measured, utterly confident. “I trust you had a comfortable journey here in the company of my agent.”

Hera repressed a cringe at the allusion to Rukh. “Spare me your concern, Admiral, as well as your hospitality. I desire neither.”

The edge of Thrawn’s mouth quirked up. “Desire. What an interesting choice of word.” Walking toward her, he clasped his hands behind his back, a movement which pulled the white fabric of his coat taut, emphasizing the sculpted breadth and solidity of the chest beneath it. “Desire is such a powerful motivating force, don’t you think?” he murmured, coming to a stop mere inches from Hera’s side. She kept her gaze averted from his face, focusing on the far wall unseen in the shadows of the room, but she could feel the force of those eyes, bright with cunning, boring into her cheek. “As powerful a force as gravity. Bending light around it. Twisting purposes. Altering the very course of destiny.”

Thrawn’s arm brushed against Hera’s as he leaned against the console behind them and it took all her force of will not to flinch away. It would not do to give him such satisfaction, yet Hera was aware of a disconcerting uptick in the speed of her heartbeat, an unease in the proximity of his body that disturbed her more than his actual presence did. Over the years she had faced many a despicable adversary. But none had provoked such a visceral reaction from her. She concentrated on holding her ground, not giving an inch, and cursed herself for the involuntary twitch of her right lek as Thrawn leaned yet closer and spoke softly.

“There is much we will compromise for the fulfillment of our desires. Wouldn’t you agree, Captain Syndulla?”

“What do you want?” she snapped, turning to face him, not caring that this put a mere hairsbreadth of distance between her face and his. “If there is a reason you brought me here, other than to torture or execute me, please have the decency to get to it.”

Eyes sparkling, Thrawn smiled with undisguised amusement. “As it happens, I have a proposition for you.” He reached forward suddenly and grasped the binders that restrained her, the bare skin of his strong wrist brushing the back of Hera’s hand as he did so. Her resolve broke and she jolted back; Thrawn froze, a look of genuine concern on his face as he held up one hand in a gesture of innocence.

“Easy, Captain. I merely want you to turn around to face the console.” He moved her wrists to a magnetic panel on the side of the console and, with a crisp snap, the binders affixed themselves to it, securing her in place. “I’m hopeful that such restraints will be unnecessary ere long,” he added, and Hera puzzled over this statement while he took up a position at her side - still too close for comfort - and pressed a button, calling up a holographic planetary map that Hera recognized instantly.

“Ryloth.” She breathed out the name, fear and reverence mixing in her voice. Turning sharply, she narrowed her eyes, glaring as if she might throttle Thrawn with the force of her anger alone. “What is this? What are you planning?”

“This map shows the position of all Imperial garrisons currently on Ryloth,” Thrawn said, gesturing to the hovering globe. “As you can see, they are quite numerous.”

Hera ground her teeth. She hardly needed a reminder of the deprivations her people were being forced to endure.

“But the Twi’lek people are, as you’re aware, quite resourceful and difficult to subdue. The Emperor has ordered an additional ten garrisons to be placed on the planet, as well as five more legions of stormtroopers, to be deployed in the coming days.”

Hera endeavored to keep her expression even, though her heart fell downward like a stone, settling with a sickening thud at the bottom of her stomach. The people of Ryloth were hard pressed as it was, their meager resistance already worn down to a weary sliver. A new influx of Imperial power would bring a swift end to all opposition, and a harsh retribution for all previous defiance.

“This will happen,” Thrawn continued in a low voice, “and Ryloth will be crushed beneath the might of the Empire. Unless--"

He let the word hang in the air between them. Hera resented having to take his bait, but she had no time now for games. “Unless what?”

“I have influence with the Emperor. In fact, I may dare go so far as to say that I am in possession of the Emperor’s special favor: both for my past service and for aid that my particular knowledge may render in future.” The loftiness of Thrawn’s tone seemed to imply some great and secret project that Hera dreaded to consider. “This position allows me some indulgences other officers would not be permitted. I am prepared, Captain Syndulla, to request of the Emperor the immediate - and permanent - withdrawal of every garrison and legion on Ryloth. Both those currently in place and those slated to be sent in the coming days.”

Hera waited, breath caught in her throat, for the catch. Because of course there was one. This was strategy, the jaws of some clever trap about to snap shut -- this was how Thrawn operated, as if the whole of the galaxy was nothing but a giant dejarik board. But when the Admiral said nothing more, only stood regarding Hera with a patient, emotionless expression, she could not help but give voice to her disbelief.

“Why?” she demanded, her tone sharp. “Why would you do this?” She narrowed her eyes, searching those inscrutable red orbs of his for some hint of his intentions. “Why would the Emperor do this?”

“You are regarding this as a strictly military matter,” Thrawn said. “It is not. As I said, the Emperor will grant me this as a personal favor.”

Hera could not disguise her astonishment. “A personal favor? The liberation of Ryloth? Oh, I see.” She smiled bitterly. “Name your price then, Admiral. I know there must be one. Let me guess: you will make this request in exchange for the capitulation of myself and my crew, and the destruction of my ship. Is that it?”

Thrawn smiled. “Still you misunderstand me. I say again, Captain, this is no military matter. I will relinquish my pursuit of your crew: they will be caught eventually, I have no doubt of that, but I needn’t be the one to bring about their reckoning. No, my dear Captain Syndulla, this has nothing to do with your crew or your ship, or even the Rebellion.” Thrawn tilted his head to one side, considering Hera very carefully, and Hera felt a part of herself come unmoored, as if the intensity of his stare had the power to hypnotize and disorient her. “This is only about you and me.”

She was disoriented, in fact; so much jolted out of her ability to comprehend what was happening that she failed to react when Thrawn lifted his hand and laid his fingers against the angle of her jaw. She was aware of his touch in a distant, almost disbelieving way, as if it were something she was watching happen to someone else, someone far away. But she had noticed his hands before: strong, elegant, with long, slender fingers - an artist’s hands. What a pity, Hera mused, swallowing hard as she stilled her body with an effort, that those hands weren’t molding clay rather than plotting strategy on the bridge of a star destroyer. It would have saved the Rebellion so much trouble.

“Did you know that there is a sentient race in Wild Space for whom desire is so potent, so powerful a physiological effect, that it actually changes the biological composition of their bodies?” Thrawn asked, murmuring softly as his fingers rested against Hera’s jaw. “It is quite extraordinary. When they have identified a potential mate, an object of desire, the force of their need is so strong that it begins to manifest in physical changes. Their pulmonary muscles enlarge and begin to emit a light visible outside their bodies. Their hair undergoes a rapid alteration in color and texture. Their vocal ranges acquire new octaves. All to the purpose of accomplishing the fulfillment of their desire. And such changes are, of course, reflected in all aspects of their personalities. Their interests, their aspirations, their culture, their art -- all change as a consequence.” Thrawn’s gaze, which had been fixed on Hera’s eyes, dropped briefly to her lips, and she was uncomfortably aware of the proximity of his thumb to her mouth. “Such is the power of desire, Captain Syndulla.”

“Your price.” Hera forced the words out, her throat dry, her tongue barely able to form the syllables. They emerged from her mouth quietly, quieter still for being drowned out in her own ears by the rapid hammering of her pulse, but Thrawn heard them nonetheless.

“You.” He gave his answer without hesitation, without the least embarrassment or uncertainty. “In exchange for one night in my bed, Captain Syndulla, I will see that your home planet and your people are free of Imperial rule forever.”

Hera’s head reeled. Stunned into silence, she doubted her own senses. Surely he had not made such a proposition, surely he wasn’t serious…”You’re mad,” she finally rasped, unable to make any other reply.

“It may seem so, perhaps,” Thrawn said calmly. “But such is the way of desire. How it drives us in directions we could never have anticipated, possesses us, changes us. I knew from the moment I first encountered you, Hera, that you were the only creature in this galaxy who could fulfill me. Until then I had only tasted one kind of desire: the desire for victory. Now I am consumed by a desire yet more demanding.” He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip and Hera, defenseless and unprepared, trembled at the touch: so soft, so intimate. “I ask of you only one night. Surely it is a small price to pay for the liberation of an entire planet, an entire people?”

It was a monstrous price, and a monstrous thing to ask, and Hera felt fully the debasement of it, felt rage and revulsion and the overpowering need to run from the room, to escape his stifling presence and simply breathe. But some detached part of her mind observed in horror as another part began to assess it. He _desired_ her. Her powerful enemy, the greatest grand admiral in the Empire, desired her to the point that he would willingly sacrifice Imperial control of an entire planet. Desired her so much that he would surrender the pursuit of her crew. In some secret part of her, Hera felt a terrible quiver of elation. To have power over such a creature as Thrawn…

If she let her thoughts linger there, she could imagine the Grand Admiral on his knees. Thrawn, stripped of his uniform, all the outward trappings of his rank and power tossed aside, his body bared and vulnerable beneath her, lids drawn down over those piercing red eyes and head thrown back in ecstasy at her touch. The air of command, the haughty confidence, gone - melted and subsumed in helpless mewling sighs, in desperate pleas panted out between gasps and cries. In his private chambers aboard his flagship she would wield the power, and for the cost of baring her body, of letting him possess it for just the few fleeting hours of one night, she could free all of Ryloth and buy some time for Ezra and Zeb and Sabine and Kanan…

_Kanan_.

Hera’s imagination betrayed her. As the uppermost of her thoughts turned with a pang to Kanan, the part of her mind that toyed with Thrawn’s indecent proposition continued its creation of images, and she saw herself in Thrawn’s arms, saw those long fingers of his tracing patterns across her bare flesh, saw him claiming with impunity all those parts of her she had saved for Kanan. Thrawn would take them, and surely they would be tarnished in that taking, and even if Kanan did not know, or even if he knew and could accept it, she would feel it, the despoilment of those treasures that should have been Kanan’s alone. Could she ever after feel Kanan’s touch without it recalling the ghost of Thrawn’s fingers, ever feel Kanan’s mouth hot on her skin without the memory of Thrawn’s kiss lingering as a cold mockery beside it? 

Could she bear it?

The liberation of an entire planet and species hinged on whether or not she could. One night weighed against eternity, one Twi’lek body surrendered so millions more could be freed. A chance for Kanan and Ezra and the rest of the _Ghost_ ’s crew to run, maybe to escape. And all Hera would have to do was bear it: a chrono ticking off the hours of a single night, her body given over to a Grand Admiral’s desires. If she could lock the greater part of herself away in a box inside her mind, wall it off and leave it dumb and dormant for those hours, maybe she could survive it. But she knew that doing so would leave that other part of herself at liberty, unchecked and unrestrained, that wicked little part that thrilled at Thrawn’s desire, that even now responded with heat and excitement to his closeness and his touch.

Thrawn was watching her intently, still holding her face. “We were made for one another, Hera,” he whispered. “Perfectly matched as adversaries. Perfectly as lovers. Henceforth, let us act out our battles in the bedroom, my dear Captain, where the defeated will know as much pleasure as the victorious…” As he spoke, Thrawn had leaned infinitesimally closer, until his lips just barely brushed Hera’s. Her mouth was open - on a curse, an insult, a refusal she could, for some reason, not get out - and Thrawn paused on the precipice of a kiss, his lips moistened by the wet heat of her breath.

A signal sounded on the console’s control panel, breaking the tension of the moment, and with a dark look Thrawn pulled away and turned, pressing a button. “I thought I told you that I was not to be interrupted, Lieutenant.”

“You did, Admiral, and I apologize,” the officer’s voice said nervously. “But there is a priority message from the Emperor coming in and I did not think you would want to keep him waiting.”

Thrawn nodded curtly. “You were quite correct, Lieutenant. I will take it in my private quarters.” Turning, Thrawn paused at Hera’s side. “I will give you time to consider my proposal, Captain. But I beg you to consider all that is at stake. And how easy and pleasurable the price I’ve set to obtain it.”

As he began walking out Hera finally found her voice and, to her own surprise, it came out with a sarcasm that sliced through the distance between them. “This desire you speak of, your desire for me -- it cannot be so strong after all if you are only asking for one night.”

The Grand Admiral turned on his heel to face her, and his smile immediately warned Hera of the danger into which she had unwittingly stepped. “Oh my dear Hera,” he said, “you misunderstand me again. I am _requiring_ only one night from you in exchange for the liberation of Ryloth and your crew. I do so not because my desire for you is wanting, but because I am quite confident that after one night with me, you will remain by my side ever after. Of your own volition.”

Moving with that same intensely confident, predatory grace, Thrawn exited the room, leaving Hera awash in conflicting emotions. She stood mute and motionless, dull as the spaces between stars, but like those spaces her mind was no empty vacuum: it was filled with infinite possibilities, some she recoiled from, and others… Others she was too ashamed to acknowledge or name.


End file.
